The Dissent of Man
by CaptScarlett
Summary: Rhett attempts to broaden Scarlett’s horizons with his provocative ideas and gets a little more than he bargained for in the process. Set pre-wedding, 1868.


**A/N. So there was this little ficathon over the summer… I'm not technically late, this is a fill-in for someone who couldn't complete their assignment. I'm not entirely happy with it, but then hey, I never am, lol. SJ, last one's on you. ;D**

**It's written around a prompt provided by Mad Steph - the Dickens quote. Hope you enjoy. **

**Some people may find some of the ideas in this controversial, but I think this is a conversation these two could have had. Also please read the boring A/N at the end regarding dates and _The Descent of Man_ before getting annoyed about it not having been published yet. Thanks.**

**

* * *

**

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours my pet, that you're staring so wistfully off into space," Rhett asked as he took a seat beside her on Pittypat Hamilton's porch. "Dare I hope you were thinking of me?"

"As a matter of fact I was," she answered, her attention returning to her sewing. "I was remembering how you used to come and visit me during the war, when we'd sit out here in the evening and talk. The way you always made me feel better about everything, teased me out of my bad moods-"

"Or put you in one," he offered.

"I miss that."

"The war?"

"Of course not."

"Being put in a bad mood then." He smiled slightly as she shot him a sharp glance.

"Your coming to visit me, Rhett, our conversations. It seems you're forever disappearing off on business trips these days."

"Why Scarlett, I do believe you've missed me!"

"Well maybe I have," she conceded, "but only a very little. I shouldn't want you to get a big head because of it. You're conceited enough as it is."

"I wouldn't dream of it. But you should be making the most of your time alone, my dear. Just a few more weeks and you'll never be rid of me ever again!" Her stomach somersaulted uncomfortably at his words. Rhett meanwhile settled back comfortably in his chair, crossed his legs at the ankles and opened his book.

"You're going to sit there and read?" He raised his brows at her in query. "Haven't I just now told you I've missed your company, annoying though it sometimes may be. Talk to me Rhett, tell me something fun and exciting. You've been ever so dull this evening!"

"I apologise my dear." He snapped the book shut. "I thought perhaps that one argument we had over the dinner table would have sufficed for tonight."

"I don't want us to argue Rhett," she said smoothing her skirts, "I just want us to have a nice civilised conversation."

"Ah, so the weather then. It's been unseasonably warm for this time of year, don't you agree." Scarlett made a face at him. "What shall we discuss then? Your business enterprises? Georgia politics?" he leaned forward and whispered, "How much I'm looking forward to our wedding night?"

"For heaven's sake Rhett, that's not appropriate!" she whispered harshly.

"All the more reason to talk about it! Would you prefer we debate religion instead?"

"If you're going to be contrary I shall go into the house!" she warned.

"You're right Scarlett," he chuckled softly, "this is just like during the war. My dear if you're going to be Mrs Rhett Butler you'd better get used to my irreverent ways and develop a few opinions on such matters yourself. Otherwise I fear we'll have nothing to talk about when our honeymoon's over. Obviously," he leaned torwards her again lowering his voice, "I don't have a great deal of talking scheduled for that." Scarlett blushed as he held her gaze for an uncomfortable moment then looked away.

He watched her fidget with the sewing in her lap, then sat back and opened his book once more. Scarlett, relieved she was no longer under his scrutiny abandoned her pretence at appearing busy.

"Tell me what you are reading."

"Since when have you ever been interested in books, my dear?"

"You know perfectly well I'm not Rhett, but why shouldn't I feign interest in what amuses my future husband?"

"No reason at all. It's A Tale of Two Cities. One of Miss Melly's I believe. Shall I read you a passage?" Scarlett put her sewing aside, closed her eyes and rested her head back against the chair. He took her silence as assent, returned his eyes to the pages of the book and began to read aloud.

"'_A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other'_." He looked over at her and waited.

"Why did you stop?"

"I think any more of it will just confuse you."

"If you are going to insult my intelligence I will thank you to leave Rhett Butler!"

"I was complimenting your intelligence, my dear, by allowing you an opportunity to comment on the line." He raised his eyebrows and looked at her expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Do you agree?"

She folded her arms across her chest and dismissed him with "I never heard a truer word spoken in all my born days."

"You weren't even listening, were you. Reflect, Scarlett. Tell me what you think."

"I think I'm back in class at Fayetteville," she muttered before eyeing him suspiciously. "Why do you care anyway? You always make fun of my opinions."

"Nonsense, I make fun of the opinions of others that you simply repeat back to me. You have a brain, my pet, and I enjoy it immensely when you use it."

"Fine. Could you repeat it please?" A corner of his mouth went down and she knew he was laughing at her, but he obliged.

"Interesting." Clearly she didn't think so. "Who wrote that?"

"Charles Dickens."

"Oh yes."

"So again I ask, do you agree?"

"Well you're certainly a mystery to me, so yes I suppose I do."

"Really?" he stroked his moustache a moment. "I hardly think it's universally accurate, for while you have great difficulty in understanding me I have absolutely no trouble whatsoever in understanding you."

How dare he presume to know her so well, she bristled! Except, her brain reminded her, he did. And whenever she felt she was close to figuring Rhett out, he'd turn the tables. That mask he wore that hid his emotions from her rarely ever slipped. "You pride yourself on that don't you," she grumbled.

"As a matter of fact I rather do," he laughed. "Come now Scarlett, we can't all be good at everything. You may never understand what's written on my face, the emotions in my eyes, what motivates my actions. For all we are good friends and engaged to be married, you know me no better than you do Mr Wilkes." He held up his hand to silence her when she made to protest. "I'm not upbraiding you for it my dear, I'm simply stating a fact. And perhaps," he added, "I like you better that way. Just accept your shortcomings my dear, and you'll be much happier for it."

"My perceived shortcomings-"

"Don't ruffle your feathers," he interrupted. "We can't change who we are and what is inherent in our natures, undesirable though some of those characteristic may be. Besides you have plenty of highly commendable qualities that more than make up for any deficiencies in your character. Your money collecting skills for example are outstanding. Your passion, your loyalty - misguided though it sometimes is -, the tenacity you possess that makes you cling like a barnacle to those ideals you hold dear," he cast her a sly glance, "though that is perhaps, Mr Darwin might suggest, because a very distant ancestor of yours used to be one, so I oughtn't praise you too highly on that score."

"What the devil are you talking about now?"

"The British naturalist Charles Darwin - you've heard of him I hope - theorises that every living creature is descended from a common ancestor and that we evolved in different ways over many millions of years to find ourselves as we are today. So perhaps somewhere along the line our forebears may indeed have resembled molluscs." Rhett paused for a moment and watched her before adding casually. "He and some of his contemporaries claim we humans are in fact descended from the apes."

"For heaven's sake Rhett," she turned on him, "God created man on the seventh day and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise!"

"I believe it was the sixth day Scarlett, if I recall my childhood religious instruction correctly. He rested on the seventh day." He laughed as Scarlett blushed, then continued. "Does it not occur to you that perhaps the creation story as told in Genesis is simply that, a story? Designed for easy consumption by the masses but in fact describing exactly the same principles Darwin puts forward only on a much shorter scale? No I don't suppose it would." Her expression was skeptical at best. "Let me explain. God created the sea, filled it with sea creatures, followed by plants and animals on the land and last came the humans. Darwin proposes we all originally came from the sea and evolved differently on land, not in days but over many millennia."

"You oughtn't make such scandalous pronouncements!"

"Why ever not? Stop looking at me as if I've grown a second head Scarlett. Secretly I think you rather enjoy such controversial discussions."

"I most certainly do not," she stated emphatically.

He put his hand beneath her chin and turned her toward him, studying her frowning face appraisingly. "Yes, yes, it's as I suspected. Definite simian qualities apparent on closer inspection." Scarlett scowled and smacked his hand away. "Did you know, my dear, that in addition to being on occasion decidedly bad tempered, apes have a nasty habit of throwing things about, only china ornaments aren't their projectile of choice."

"I'm not listening Rhett." She folded her arms across her chest with finality hoping to shut him up.

"Come Scarlett, I'm not challenging your belief in the existence of a benevolent God, simply that He waved his magic wand and we all suddenly found ourselves here as we are today. " He took a sip of his brandy and offered her the glass. Scarlett looked offended and shook her head. "You don't lend it any credence whatsoever?"

"No! Of course not."

"Why? I'll wager you'd never even applied your mind to the subject before a minute ago, had you."

"I'd never even heard of such a thing! And I wouldn't have thought on it if I had since the whole notion is sacrilegious."

"Nonsense. Haven't I just now explained the theory to be acceptably compatible with Christian dogma if you so wish it? Anyway, why would God endow us with intelligence and free will if He didn't want us to form our own opinions on matters? If that were the case then He ought to have written it all down."

"The Bible-"

"Was written by man Scarlett, not any divine being." He paused a moment before adding lightly, "Of course, perhaps it's all an elaborate test designed to prove who is worthy and if I fail to produce the correct answers I'll be turned away when I arrive before Saint Peter."

"Mother of God, Rhett, stop!" Scarlett crossed herself. "Don't blaspheme so. You'll go to Hell for it!"

"But my dear isn't that what you've always wanted?" he laughed.

"No of course not!"

"There's nothing wrong with considering others' opinions, Scarlett, even if they differ from your own. I hardly think I'm reserving my place in Hell by having a view other than that which is preached upon every Sunday morning any more than I believe any Jew will be denied his eternal reward simply because he wasn't exposed to that particular religious indoctrination as provided you by Ellen O'Hara." He paused and considered her briefly. "I believe perhaps you're afraid you might reach the conclusion that Darwin's talking sense after all."

"Don't be ridiculous Rhett! Apes indeed!"

"What about the Picards? Haven't you always likened Maybelle's little Frenchman husband and their children to a troop of monkeys? If they're not little more than a few generations from having swung down from the trees then I don't know who is!"

"That's simply a coincidence!"

"You're such a philistine, Scarlett," he chuckled quietly, knowing full well such progressive ideas would clash with her narrow minded views.

"Well that's better than being an ape!" she retorted. "Now I've had just about enough of this conversation, thank you very much, let's talk about something else!"

"Darwin's original theory then, since I know it's one of your favourite topics," he suggested casually.

"Actually I was thinking more along the lines of your explaining to me why you failed bring me a gift this evening? I'm not at all pleased with you about that, I'll have you know," she pouted but her curiosity was piqued. "What original theory?"

"The process of natural selection whereby those individuals more suited to their environment are most likely to survive and reproduce and in so doing leave their desirable traits to future generations. The strongest survive to live on in their descendants while the weak are winnowed out."

"Oh Rhett, please let's not talk about Ashley now," she cried, annoyed at being lured into his trap.

"I never mentioned Ashley Wilkes." He looked at her queerly for a moment. "I mention weakness and your mind automatically turns to Mr Wilkes? Could that possibly mean Scarlett, that his esteem is somewhat diminished in your eyes?"

She missed the strange gleam in his eyes as he studied her face. "Of course not! It- well you just reminded me of a similar conversation we had shortly after Ella was born."

"Ah yes, the Gotterdammerung," he murmured as the memory floated up from the back of his mind. "Only your opinions on Ashley Wilkes being winnowed out haven't changed I take it?"

"Ashley's doing just fine."

"He has a dedicated female admirer looking after his interests."

"We survive in whichever way we can Rhett, whether it's marrying someone for their money or taking help from a woman. You once told me only the smart deserve to survive. Surely Ashley qualifies as that, even if you don't approve of his methods?"

"So now she has an opinion!" he threw up his hands.

"Furthermore," she continued, "if reproducing to pass on your best characteristics is a measure of who is fittest then Charles, Frank and Ashley, all of whom have children where you do not must, for all your exceedingly poor opinions of them, be 'fitter', as you put it, than you are! Now what have you to say to that, Mr Darwin?!

"Simply that perhaps one day you'll be kind enough to remedy that situation for me," he said quietly.

A strangled _Oh!_ was all Scarlett could manage in response, feeling a blush creep its way into her face.

"Calm yourself Scarlett, I know you find that particular subject distasteful so I'll refrain from distressing you with it further. Suffice it to say that whether we have one child or twenty is irrelevant to me."

"Twenty, good grief! Don't even joke about such things." She cocked her head and frowned at him. "You're not secretly poor are you, and only after me for my money? That's not why you want to marry me is it?"

"No my dear, your intended is still more wealthy than even your greedy little mind can imagine."

"Well why anyone would marry a woman he doesn't love if not for children and the comforts of home I do not know. And don't say it's for my body," she leaned towards him and whispered fervently, "because you can buy one of those anywhere! You know you are right, Rhett Butler," she added sitting back in her chair. "I don't think I will ever understand you."

"Well my pet, it appears we've come full circle, right back to where we started where everyone is that profound secret and mystery to everyone else."

"With the exception of you and your ability to see through me as if my father were a glassmaker," she retorted sarcastically.

"Yes, except for that," he laughed. "There's always an exception to the rule somewhere."

"It's just as I said, you like to be contrary!" She narrowed her eyes at him and frowned, considering him for a moment. "You know what?"

"Enlighten me."

"If I am indeed so terribly bad at discerning what people think and feel - you in particular - then there's only one thing left for me to conclude."

"Which is?" he prompted, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"That you must be violently in love with me!"

Rhett choked slightly on his brandy not expecting such an accusation. "And just how exactly have you come to that?"

"You enjoy playing with me like a cat does a mouse, you're flippant, sarcastic, you treat me with disdain or contempt, you make fun of me and sometimes you are just plain mean!" He flinched slightly. "You always claim to be truthful and yet you do the exact opposite of what you say. You said you didn't believe in the cause and then off you went to war-

"Believing had nothing to do with it," he interjected quietly.

"You say you're not a marrying man and in a few weeks you'll be exactly that. Leopards can't change their spots Rhett, and I won't let you or Mr Darwin tell me otherwise. I think you lie to cover up your true feelings for me. You're like a small boy who pulls a girl's hair and makes her cry just because he likes her." She was expecting him to laugh at her and she ploughed onward not wanting to afford him the opportunity to do so. "If I don't understand you, if I always misinterpret the meaning behind what you say and do, none of which indicate devotion to me in any shape or form, well then you must be in love with me. Though why you'd deny it I have no idea. Perhaps you are just inherently incapable of admitting your feelings and instead camouflage them like the chameleon you once used to be!"

He was silent for a moment before asking quietly, "And why do chameleons camouflage themselves, Scarlett?"

"In order to-" she faltered, taken aback by his question. "Well to avoid predation."

"Then perhaps you understand me perfectly after all."

Except she didn't. "I don't know what you are saying to me, Rhett," she said looking at him with confusion. That expression she could never quite comprehend was back in his face, daring her to uncover its meaning. "Are you telling me you are in love with me?"

Their eyes met and locked for the briefest time before he looked away.

"Wouldn't that be a fine joke," Rhett murmured wryly, more to himself than to her.

"You're making fun of me again!" Scarlett's green eyes flashed angrily, the spell cast between them abruptly broken.

"And again you misunderstand," he offered softly in return. "I think perhaps I've outstayed my welcome here tonight."

Rhett got up, reached inside the front door and retrieved his hat from the stand. "You are right, Scarlett, that I was remiss in not providing you with a gift for this evening. Perhaps tomorrow I'll bring you something more to your liking than just my company."

He made to go, hesitated a moment, then turned back and cupping her cheek leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her frowning forehead. Then he turned on his heel and walked down the front walk leaving her bewildered and confused in the darkness.

It didn't occur to Scarlett that he had avoided answering her question.

FIN.

* * *

**A/N. The idea of common descent is addressed in _Origin of Species,_ and while _The Descent of Man_ - which concerns the apes - wasn't published until 1871, general debate on the idea of human descent from apes began years earlier, notably in the Oxford evolution debate of 1860.**

**Thanks for reading. :)**


End file.
